


Save the Last Dance for Me

by orphan_account



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Dancing, Depression, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:55:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26081524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Depressed at one in the morning, wrote this in an hour, didn’t edit. I’m just projecting oops. Healthy coping techniques be like
Relationships: Edward Elric/Roy Mustang
Kudos: 11





	Save the Last Dance for Me

**Author's Note:**

> This one’s not happy guys. I hit the character death warning cause it’s heavily implied even though it’s not shown.

Edward’s red coat swings in the firelight. His perfect golden eyes sparkle with the glint of the starry sky. 

Their bodies move in perfect harmony and Roy thinks about those stars he learned about in school all those years ago. Stars that orbit each other, pulling their masses around with them until they’re both extinguished by their own gravitational pull. 

Ed snorts to himself.

Something about his deep throaty laugh has never failed to make a little spark flicker in Roy’s chest, and just for a moment, the suffocating weight, the dread, the smoke seems to be lifted. 

There’s no music here, only tree branches, bats, and the distant sound of military police cars here on the streets of central.

These streets which Roy grew up on, has known his entire life.

It’s funny, really, in some messed up yet outrageously hilarious sort of way. This had always been the plan. He knew it was coming, anticipated it, welcomed it even. How ridiculously predictable he is.

His brain desperately grasping at ideals of escape, his brave demeanor crumbling as he feels his legs trying to give out. 

Here in his last hours of life lying to Edward like this. He  _ has  _ become quite adept at acting over the years. 

The thing is he really shouldn’t have to be acting right now. He has no right to any feeling of fear, of sadness at the life he could’ve had. 

The life that’s waiting for him with Edward, with Riza, with everyone else waiting for him, counting on him to be alive. 

He has no right because he destroyed that life for  _ thousands _ of people in cold blood, with the sole excuse of arbitrary military orders.

How foolish he’s been. 

But none of that seems to matter now. It’s odd how much seems meaningless when staring in the face of death. The moments that have taken on a whole new importance- when he had somehow tricked himself into thinking he had forever. 

All those afternoons in the apartment he shares with Edward with cats in their laps and hot chocolate in their hands. All those rainy days in the office listening to Riza lecture his staff. Those nights at the bar with Havoc, with  _ Maes. _

How disappointed Maes would be if he could see him now. How disappointed his parents would be that this is who their son turned into. A war criminal on his deathbed, holding his lover in his arms,  _ pitying  _ himself. 

His execution is at 9am tomorrow. Perhaps given the current time of night, it’s even today. He’ll have to head to Military HQ at around eight. 

Their little campfire has burned down to embers. Roy breathes in the cool autumn air, and Edward hums into his chest. Their steps have slowed, but they’re still swaying slightly. Breathing in each other's scents. Feeling the grass lightly brush against their angles. Taking in the warmth. 

“What’s with the face?” Edward asks in his usual sarcastic manner, and Roy realizes he’s been frowning. He smiles involuntarily at the sound of his best friend, the love of his life’s voice. Roy looks to the stars.

“Nothing, sweetheart. Just thinking.” He pauses. “I love you, you know,” he adds matter of factly. 

“Love you too, dumbass.”

A sense of content washes over him. These are his last memories, and Truth be damned he’ll treasure them for the rest of his life.


End file.
